Seventeen
Sophie’s heart hurt for several days.
Everywhere she went, the pain went with her. Shopping, fixing up the museum, reading a book, the ache never left her.
It was still there this morning when she found Frank waiting for her at the museum with a box of assorted doughnuts and hot coffee.
“Any word from our boy?” Frank referred to Dune.
“Nothing, sorry,” she said, disappointed.
Relationships were new to her. Maybe she was expecting too much from him. He’d called from the hospital, informing her that Mac had fractured his ankle. Mac didn’t need surgery, he said, but his partner would be in a medical boot for six to eight weeks. Mac planned to recover at his beach condo in Malibu before heading back to Barefoot William.
Dune also mentioned checking on his volleyball camps while he was out on the West Coast. The summer sessions were about to start. He wanted to be sure each site was well staffed with the ratio of attendees to coaches three to one. The kids mattered most, he told her. The benefits of their experience could produce a top seed someday.
Dune made no reference to when he might return and Sophie didn’t press him. He texted her once a day, but kept the tone light and easy, as if she were only a friend and he was ruffling her hair. Sophie’s stomach sank at the end of each impersonal message.
“I watched the morning news,” Frank said, settling onto his chair and grabbing a glazed blueberry cake doughnut. “The CNN sports anchor reported that Dune is actively seeking a new partner for the Hermosa Beach Open. The newscaster dropped names, but nothing has been finalized.” The older man frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Dune. He’s loyal to Mac.”
Sophie had no idea what was happening on the West Coast. She could only concentrate on her own here and now. She dedicated herself to her job as curator. She spent long hours at the museum. Frank didn’t miss a day and often arrived ahead of her. She had given him a key. He greeted her every morning with hot coffee, baked goods, and a weathered smile.
They’d grown close, Sophie realized. They spent a great deal of time talking. The older man told her stories of his father and grandfather, and had her laughing over his own childhood. He liked soapbox derbies, but he had never won a race. He collected Lionel trains and brought the train set out every Christmas. He and his adolescent friends played tag in the cow pasture, only to have the bull chase them. He was good for a game of gin or cribbage at any hour of the day or night.
There was also another side of Frank she’d never dreamed existed. The soldier. He was a loyal man, she learned. He’d served in Korea. He shaved his head bald when one of his Army buddies was diagnosed with cancer and went through chemotherapy. He was a pallbearer at the man’s funeral. He marched in the Veterans Day parade each year.
This morning, Frank had something else on his mind than telling stories, and he wasn’t shy about saying it either.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with that grandson of mine,” he said, finishing his coffee. “He’s always been considerate of others. I’m sorry he hasn’t been more communicative, Sophie.”
“I’m sure he has a lot on his mind right now,” she said. Her hands were cold, her heart colder. “He needs to make the right decision for his future, Frank.”
“I remember how it was when I met my wife. Emma Loraine Halverson was the prettiest thing a man could see on a summer day,” Frank began. “She’d ridden the train into town with her family. They were on vacation. I fell in love with her when I saw her at Milford’s Soda Shop sipping a strawberry shake topped with whipped cream and a cherry. She reminded me of sunshine with her honey blond hair, blue eyes, and warm smile.”
“What’d you do next, Frank?” Sophie wanted to know.
“I introduced myself,” Frank continued, “then I asked her if I could sit at her table. She lowered her eyes and nodded. I could barely eat my double-dip vanilla ice cream cone, I was so nervous. I kept wiping my face with my handkerchief.” He sighed. “I’ll never forget that day. Ever.”
His smile was wistful. “I asked her to marry me after two dates. She agreed. We married on a Sunday. Emma’s parents returned to Ohio and their daughter remained in Barefoot William. We had four children. Their children gave us eighteen grandchildren. I’m waiting on Shaye and Trace to give me a great-grandbaby.”
She could’ve listened to Frank tell stories all morning, but she had work to do. People came and went throughout the day as they had all week. Randy and Chuck showed up at the museum with their sketchpads in hand. Sophie discovered the boys were quite talented. She decided to give them a chance to draw the Cates family tree.
The rest of the week followed the same pattern. Shaye and Trace stopped in to check on Sophie at noon on Wednesday. Shaye had tears in her eyes when Frank and Trace shook hands and agreed to work together in the future. Frank had a parcel of land that Trace wanted to acquire for a public park. Frank was ready to negotiate.
Late Friday afternoon, Jenna Cates arrived at the museum in a pedicab. She asked the driver to wait for her at the curb. She then pushed through the door. “How are you doing, Sophie?” she asked, leaning back against the doorjamb.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Sophie returned, eyeing her friend. “You’ve lost weight.”
“Six pounds,” Jen said with a weariness in her voice Sophie hadn’t heard before. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have dark circles under my eyes.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Uncombed and no gel.”
Her gaze was flat, too, Sophie noticed. Jen had pretty brown eyes, but they weren’t nearly as bright or fiery as when Mac was in town.
“I’m a mess,” Jen admitted, jamming her hands in the pockets of her denim shorts. “I’ve never allowed any man to walk into my life and steal my heart.” She sighed. “Not until Mac James sauntered into Three Shirts. He broke my rules and I fell in love. Not my smartest move.”
“Mac is a charmer,” Sophie agreed.
“A charmer who hasn’t called me,” said Jen. She released a breath, then gently asked, “Any word from Dune?”
“Nothing recent,” Sophie told her. “I’m assuming he’s busy, between his volleyball camps and dealing with Mac. Mac needs to rest. Without supervision, he’ll be up and walking on the beach—”
“Using hot, gorgeous women for crutches,” Jenna said, flinching. “I can’t get that image out of my mind.”
“Me, either,” Sophie said, remembering the TV news coverage of the celebration. She could still picture Dune surrounded by tanned, toned, and adoring female fans. He’d been the center of their crush, appearing pleased by their attention.
She understood an athlete’s popularity. Mac and Dune wanted to give back to their fans. The crowds paid their salaries. But did there have to be so much touching? The women patted, stroked, and tugged the players to them. The image made Sophie miserable.
“We can’t just sit at home and wait for Dune and Mac to return to Barefoot William,” Jenna said. “We aren’t even certain they’ll be back.”
The fear she might not see Dune for months was the worst fear Sophie had ever faced. The very thought she might see him again someday, but with another woman, would prove awkward, humiliating, and heartbreaking to her.
“We need a girls’ night out,” Jen said with conviction. “I’ve always wanted to try Barconi’s bistro on Saunders Shores. It’s time for me to cross Center Street. I’m in the mood for Italian food.”
Jen was right. Fine dining was the perfect way to move on with her life. “I’ve eaten there several times,” Sophie said. “The chef is from Bologna, Italy. The bruschetta and Chicken Roberto are my favorite dishes. I’d love to have dinner with you.”
“Cool. Shaye’s organizing midnight movie madness on the pier,” Jenna went on to say. “Transformers: Fall of Cy-bertron will be the first of many Sunday summer shows shown on the outer wooden wall of Cook It, Kai’s chef’s kitchen. Lots of families attend every year.”
“Sounds like fun,” Sophie said, her mood lifting. “What should I bring?”
Jen thought a moment. “Beach chairs, popcorn, candy, and soda. That’s it.”
Sophie dipped her head, an old fear haunting her. She said, “I always wanted to ride the merry-go-round and Ferris wheel. I was too scared as a child. My time is now.”
Jen nodded. “I love all the amusements. Ever play Whac-A-Mole? Ring toss? Balloon darts?”
Sophie shook her head. “They sound entertaining.”
“And addicting,” Jen said, smiling. She turned to leave, then stopped. “We’ll get through this, Sophie.” She gave her a quick thumbs-up, then opened the door. It closed behind her.
Sophie hoped Jen was right and she would survive. She massaged her chest, right over her heart. Her feelings were bruised. Her sense of disappointment was eye-opening. She’d believed in Dune, yet once he’d returned to volleyball, his fame and fanfare claimed him again. Sophie now stood on the sidelines.
She gazed out the front window and watched as Jenna climbed into the pedicab. She leaned back on the seat; her shoulders were slumped. Sophie felt her friend’s sadness. It went bone deep.
Jenna Cates missed Mac James. She hated the fact she’d allowed him to take over her life. She wanted to kick something; that something was the curb when the driver dropped her off at her cottage. Her flip-flops were flimsy. Damn if she didn’t stub her toe.
She took the stone path to the steps that led to her porch. She noticed the beige paint was peeling at the corners of her cottage and along the roofline. It was time to spruce up the place.
Most of the cottages on her street were brightly colored: sunshine yellow, seashell pink, a deep lavender. In that moment, she decided on sky blue with white shutters. The paint would brighten her life and make for a nice change.
Climbing the stairs, she looked around. Where were her Savannahs? They always approached her the second she started up the path. Not so today. So, where were they? They seldom spent time in the house. They preferred lying in the grass beneath a shade tree or stretched out in the window boxes.
She stopped, listened. It was eerily quiet.
She removed her house key from her denim pocket and keyed the door. She pushed it open. Slowly. Something was wrong. She could feel it. The hair at her nape prickled, as if she were about to be ambushed.
Mac James took her by surprise. He looked right at home seated on the antique rocking chair in her living room. His walking cast was propped on the ottoman. He appeared calm and comfortable, while her heart raced and her stomach fluttered.
Her cats had betrayed her, allowing him inside their domain. Chike now curled on his lap. Jango, Neo, and Aba lay on the floor close by. Jen couldn’t move. She could only stare.
She took him in. He was too handsome for his own good. It had been eleven days since she’d seen him, yet it seemed like forever. His hair was longer and curled at his shirt collar. His blue T-shirt matched his eyes. The logo read Come and Get Me. Oh really? She wasn’t going anywhere near him. Not after that postgame display of flash and flesh that he’d put on for the TV audience. One leg on his jeans was cut off at the knee to accommodate his cast. He wore a single leather flip-flop.
“Jenna?” His voice was low and deep. He tilted his head and narrowed his gaze. Uncertainty flickered in his eyes when she kept her distance.
She clenched her fists and tamped down her excitement at seeing him. “Who let you in?” Her voice was tight and unwelcoming. “Did you jimmy the back window?”
“It was all Chike’s idea,” he defended himself, scratching the Savannah behind the ears. “I couldn’t fit through the cat door. Chike suggested the window.”
Jen could hear Chike’s purring all the way to the door. The sound irritated her. A lot. Her furry protector rolled onto his back, wanting his belly rubbed. Mac obliged. Chike looked at her from his upside-down position. She swore he winked at her. Her cat was a traitor.
“How’s your ankle, Mac?” she wanted to know.
“It gets sore when I stand, so I’m forced to use my crutches.”
“Which ones?” She sounded snarky, but she didn’t care. “Aluminum or human?”
His brow creased, as if he didn’t understand her question. After a moment, he burst out laughing. His laughter was inappropriate as far as Jenna was concerned.
“I had assistance off the court after the tournament,” he said. “I’m sure the camera caught the worst angles.”
“I saw tits and ass.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re jealous.”
“Maybe . . . a little.” She was honest.
“Don’t be, Jen. I was thinking about you the whole time.”
“When exactly did you think of me?” she asked him bluntly. “When you were being kissed by the groupies or when the Aqua Gold hostess rubbed suntan oil on your shoulders?”
He pursed his lips. “Definitely during the rubbing.”
“You’re such an ass.”
“I’m your ass, Jenna.”
“What if I don’t want you?”
“You do, babe.” He was smiling now. “Once you calm down, you can tell me how much.”
He was way too sure of himself. She crossed to him then. Gripping his arm, she tugged hard. “Out of my rocker and out of my house,” she ordered him.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do.” Chike received her message, loud and clear. He hopped off Mac’s lap and resettled on the armless chair. Mac was left on his own.
He saw through her, which irritated Jen all the more. “You’re mad I didn’t call you, and I understand that.” He ran one hand down his face. “Following the tournament, I was psyched that we’d won. I’m not going to lie, I enjoyed the praise, the prize money, the—”
“Women?” she had to add.
“The women lasted as far as the ambulance,” Mac informed her with a straight face. “Dune stayed with me at the hospital. There was no one else. The doctor was as ancient as his nursing staff.”
“No sponge bath, then?”
“Nurse Granny Panties washed the sand off my foot, but that was it.”
Jen forced down a smile. “Your fingers weren’t broken. You could’ve sent me a text.”
“Not in the mood I was in, Jen.” He blew out a breath, then went on to say, “I left the hospital ornery, complaining, and feeling damn sorry for myself. Ask Dune, he’ll tell you how crappy I felt. He and I had just come off a major win. He’d played well, and Hermosa was a definite possibility.”
He paused, grew thoughtful. Jenna waited to hear what he had to say. She owed him that.
“It’s funny,” he said, “how life shuts a man down when he’s at an all-time high.”
“We’ve all suffered setbacks, Mac.” She no longer gripped his arm, instead she found herself stroking his shoulder, offering him comfort. “We start again from where we’ve left off.”
“A fractured ankle makes it tough for a player to return to volleyball,” he said. “A few have tried, but a second bad twist, and I’m sitting on the sidelines again.”
“Surely you have options.”
“I plan to put in an employment application at Three Shirts,” he told her. “I know the shop owner. She’s aware that I can draw a crowd.”
“That you do.” Having Mac around full-time was more than she’d hoped for. Jen liked the idea. They’d be a good team.
His jaw worked. “I’ve made additional adjustments, too,” he continued before she could argue with him. “I cleared out my condo in Malibu and listed it with a real estate agent. It’s located on the sand in a prime spot and should sell quickly. I sold most of my furniture. The few remaining pieces I chose to keep will be delivered here in a few days.”
She blinked. “Here, to my home?”
He nodded. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”
She pinched his shoulder. “Don’t think for me, Mac.”
He winced. “A husband deserves a few items of his own—”
“Husband?” She backed him up.
“I plan to marry you.”
“Do I have any say?”
“Very little, actually,” he said. “Your cats like me; they want me as a roommate.”
Seductive warmth settled on her chest. Mac James with his sexy smile and hot body had come home to her. He wanted her as his wife. She smiled at her Savannahs. “It seems I’m outnumbered.”
He reached out and drew her to him. She climbed onto his lap. He ran his hands up and down her sides. His thumbs stroked beneath her breasts. “You’ve lost weight,” he noticed once her bottom rested on his groin. He snuck a peek down her shirt. “Did you go down a cup size?”
She slapped his hand away. “I was worried about you and couldn’t eat,” she admitted, sighing.
“I was worried about me, too,” he admitted.
She poked him in the chest. “Never keep me in the dark again. Your problems are my problems, understood?”
“Got it,” he agreed. “Never doubt I love you.”
“I like you a little bit, too.”
“Prove it.” He rocked slowly forward, and then back, learned the feel of the chair. “I’ve got condoms in my wallet and you positioned on my thighs. Where do we go from here?”
She showed him where by kissing him deeply.
He had her clothes off before she even missed them.
She stroked.
He squeezed.
He growled his passion.
She moaned her pleasure.
The antique rocker creaked, groaned, and gave good motion.
The motion of the Gulf was slow and lazy, Dune Cates noticed as he leaned against the bright blue pipe railing on the Barefoot William Boardwalk. He scanned the beach, hoping to locate Sophie Saunders. He couldn’t wait a moment longer to see her.
He’d arrived home an hour ago. He immediately grabbed a cab from the municipal airport to the museum on Center Street. Hopping out at the curb, he found the front door of the shop propped open. He peeked inside. The scent of paint and floor polish was strong. He’d been gone two weeks. From what he could see, Sophie had accomplished a great deal in a very short time. New paint, floors, shelves, and display cases. The place was taking shape.
“Dune, welcome home,” his grandfather called out to him from the back room. He was seated on a chair, supervising Randy and Chuck as they worked on the mural.
Dune was impressed with the boys’ work. Sophie had a great idea to make the Cates family tree a key part of the museum. He had an even better one. Dune was hoping his and Sophie’s names could be added to the middle branches before the trunk was drawn and the paint dried.
“I’m looking for Sophie,” he told Frank.
“And why might that be?” his grandfather surprised him by asking. The older man sounded protective of her.
“I want to let her know I’m home.”
“She’s not expecting you, son,” Frank said outright. He stood then, crossed to Dune, seeming uneasy.
“I wanted to surprise her,” Dune told him.
Frank’s brow furrowed. “Surprises sometimes backfire.” He looked at him straight on.
There was something in the older man’s voice that made Dune question, “Are you telling me she won’t be glad to see me?”
His granddad never minced words. He cleared his throat and said, “I can’t speak for Sophie. I can only tell you what I see. She’s missed you, Dune, but I don’t recollect you telling her that you missed her.”
“I texted her.”
“Not every day, you didn’t. Modern technology isn’t personal, son. Words on a little screen don’t go a heck of a long way in reassuring a girl you’ve been thinking about her, too.” He paused, rubbing his chin. “She’s gotten real serious, Dune, and she seldom smiles. She walks around with her hand over her heart like it hurts.”
Dune had thought about her often, but he’d also needed to get his own head on straight. Major decisions were faced and finalized during the past week. At the end of the day, he’d never meant to cause her pain.
He loved Sophie Saunders.
It was time to let her know how much.
“Where can I find her?” he asked, needing to see her now, more than ever.
“Sophie needed a break,” Frank told him. “The paint fumes were getting to her. You’ll find her on the beach.”
Dune raised his brow. “The beach?”
Frank nodded, and Dune couldn’t help but smile. Was Sophie braving the waves? He couldn’t wait to find out.
He gave his grandfather a man-hug, a thump on the back, and a fist bump. He then left the shop. He jogged the half-block from the museum to the boardwalk. The sand was patterned with tourists, many now packing up after a long day at the beach. He scanned the shoreline and the wooden pilings on the pier. There was no sign of Sophie.
Growing impatient, he jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and began to pace. This wasn’t what he’d planned. Sophie was sad and hurting inside. How could he mess up so bad? He walked from Molly Malone’s Diner to Crabby Abby’s General Store and back again. He looked over the rims of his Suncats and squinted against the sun. Still no sign of Sophie. Where the hell was she?
He was ready to take to the beach when he saw her. His heart stopped. She stood in profile, knee-deep in the Gulf with sunlight glistening all around her. Her focus was on a young girl taking a paddleboard lesson. He grinned. This was the same girl who’d entered the stand-up paddleboard races several weeks ago.
Dune saw the girl wave at Sophie, and caught Sophie waving back. She watched the girl’s lesson with avid interest, clapping her hands and giving her encouragement. It appeared they’d met and become friends. He decided not to interrupt their moment.
Twenty minutes passed, and the lesson ended. The girl grabbed her board and approached Sophie. Together, they walked across the sand toward the Popsicle Shack. Sophie reached into the pocket of her shorts and paid for two icy treats.
Dune continued to watch as the two of them talked. Sophie was such a kind person, always thinking about others. How come it took him so damn long to make up his mind? He knew the answer. His career was on the line, too.
Once they finished with their popsicles, the girl took off. Sophie waved good-bye to her, then scuffed through the sand, coming toward the wooden ramp that led to the boardwalk.
Where was his desert nomad? Dune wondered, thinking back on when he first arrived in town. Gone were her bucket hat, rain poncho, and waterproof pants tucked into her rubber boots. There’d been a time she’d tripped over her own feet and nearly taken a nosedive.
Not so today. A very sexy woman replaced his nomad. Sophie looked hot. She’d pulled her brown hair into a high ponytail. Red sunglasses shaded her eyes. The sun had lightly kissed her exposed skin. She glowed.
He’d never seen Sophie in a tank top, yet she wore one today. It was royal blue. Her navy walking shorts fit loosely. He liked her barefoot. One of the lifeguards called out to her, and Sophie smiled back. Dune swore the guy was flirting with her, but the guard’s words didn’t distract her. She didn’t stumble or blush.
The closer she came, the harder it was for Dune to breathe. Simply put, she was a stunner. Men stared and admired her. Dune hoped he hadn’t screwed up and she’d moved on. The thought kicked him in the gut.
She was nearly to the steps now. The breeze blew in his direction, picking up her soft, powdery, vanilla scent.
Anticipation squeezed his chest.
Attraction tightened his groin.
Sophie’s hand was on the weathered, wooden railing when she looked up and noticed him. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t run up the stairs and hug him. Instead she slowly removed her sunglasses and stared at him. There was apprehension in her gaze and banked sadness. She tilted her head, waiting quietly for him to speak first.
“You have yellow lips,” were the first words out of his mouth.
Her smile was small. “I love banana popsicles.”
“I like grape.”
“So does Melissa, the girl on the paddleboard.”
“I see you’ve met her.”
“I’ve caught a few of her lessons,” Sophie said, her voice as soft and faint as the breeze. “She introduced herself. Apparently the lifeguard let it slip that I’d given her the gift certificate.”
Dune hoped she’d join him on the boardwalk, yet she remained at the bottom of the ramp. He curved his hands over the pipe railing. He squeezed so hard his knuckles whitened. Both wrists felt strong. He’d healed well. He had so much to share with Sophie, yet words failed him at that moment.
A first for him.
A seagull flew between them, squawking and mocking their silence. Smartass bird.
He noticed an empty cement bench a few feet away, one situated between the Denim Dolphin and Goody Gumdrops. Two large potted plants stood as sentries, giving the spot privacy. A store awning provided the shade. “Come sit with me,” he requested.
“Dune, I—” she began, hesitating.
“Please, Sophie?”
She nodded, then came up the ramp slowly. Once on the boardwalk, she didn’t take his hand as she was apt to do. Instead, she clasped her hands behind her back.
He sensed her vulnerability. Her uncertainty.
She doubted his sincerity.
Her hesitation scared the hell out of him.
He motioned for her to take a seat. They settled beneath the awning. A foot of empty space separated them. Late afternoon shadows played across their knees and ankles. He couldn’t stop looking at her. She was sun-warmed with flecks of sugar sand on her feet. Her toenails were painted a dark blue.
“The museum looks great,” he started out by saying, hoping he’d chosen a safe topic.
“I can’t take all the credit,” she said. “It’s been a group effort. The Cateses have been very supportive of my plans.”
“My grandfather is quite taken with you.”
“I like him, too.”
Sunbathers soon came off the beach in a continuous stream, chatting about their day. Dune turned his back on them. His focus was on Sophie.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
She gave him no more than a nod.
Her apathy nearly killed him. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come home, Sophie.”
“You’re here now,” she said, looking at him. Her eyes were filled with hurt. “Your family will be glad to see you.”
“What about you?” he asked. “Are you happy I’m home?”
She wasn’t ready to answer him. Reaching for his hand, she gently stroked his wrist. Her touch warmed him. “I watched your match on TV. You played like a true champion, Dune. You have options and can continue on the tour if you choose.”
“I don’t choose,” he told her.
That startled her. “What changed your mind?”
“You did, Sophie.” He held her hand and she didn’t resist. He took that as a good sign. “I was on a high after Huntington,” he admitted. “My wrist felt good and Mac and I played hard. Winning solidified our top seed.”
“I was excited you’d won,” she said, then lowered her head. “So were a lot of other women.”
So that was it. The women bothered her. He could fix that. “Fans and groupies stroke a man’s ego,” he said honestly. “Their attention is fleeting and superficial. They want to share our spotlight. Trust me, had the Taylors won, the attention would’ve been on them and not us.”
He eased Sophie closer to him. They now bumped hips and thighs. ”I taped an interview with Ty Kemp that will air before the Hermosa Beach Open, announcing my retirement, but I wanted you to be the first to know my decision.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
He looked her in the eyes. “Yes. The time is right. I can retire on my own terms and not be forced out of the game.”
She understood. “It was a decision only you could make.”
He took a chance and curved his arm about her shoulders. She rested her cheek against his chest. He kissed her forehead. Her skin was incredibly soft. “I’m sorry that I didn’t call or text you as often as I should have, but you were always on my mind. I had to work through my own personal issues. There were many. Retiring from a sport I lived and breathed since I was twelve years old weighed heavily on my mind.
“Mac took up a lot of my time, too,” he continued. “He’s not a good patient. I had to mash his pain medication in chocolate pudding to get him to rest.”
Her smile tipped. “Mac would be a handful.”
“You said it. He refused to use his crutches, preferring to shuffle. I stuck around while he located a Realtor and listed his condo. I cut out when he started selling his furniture.”
Her green eyes went wide. “What are his plans?” she asked, curious.
“Let’s just say you won our final bet,” he said, the look on his face pained. “Mac beat me back to town by two hours. He’s about to ask Jenna to marry him.”
She sat up straight, her excitement evident. “I won!”
“Choose anything you want.”
“Anything?” she asked. “Does that include you?”
“It could,” he said slowly, liking that idea. “My condo’s up for sale and my volleyball camps are up and running. I’m home, sweetheart.”
“Home . . .” She went so still, he thought she’d stopped breathing. A tear escaped and her face softened. She managed a smile. “I’ll like having you around.”
He kissed the tear off her cheek, then whispered against her ear. “I want to be here for you.” He could think of no where else he’d rather be. “I love you, Sophie.” The words felt right. “I’ll teach you how to drive, to paddleboard, to walk on stilts, whatever adventure you want to try.”
“I’ll learn how to cook,” she promised. She licked her lips, then asked him, “Can I interest you in dinner? I’m baking one-step lasagna for the third night in a row. The noodles have been chewy.”
“I can live with chewy.”
“Could you live with me forever?”
“Marriage is forever, Sophie.”
“Then I choose you,” she said with finality. “I like winning our bets.”
His chest swelled, and his smile broke. “You’ve won my heart, Sophie Saunders. You helped settle the feud. Frank already thinks of you as family, but let’s make it official, the sooner the better.”
“How soon is soon?” she asked.
“You tell me,” he said.
“It will depend on the size of our wedding.”
“I’ll leave that up to you.”
“Your family is enormous,” she said, counting on her fingers.
“They’ll all want to attend.”
“I’d like to involve my mother in the wedding,” she told him. “Our relationship is tenuous at best, but we’ve gotten a bit closer. I made French toast for her the other day. It took a lot of maple syrup, but she ate every bite.”
“That’s great news,” Dune said.
“She also made a sizeable donation to the museum,” she added.
“That was generous on her part.”
She sighed. “We will never have a normal mother-daughter relationship, but she’s trying and I’m trying. That’s all I can ask for.”
Dune squeezed her shoulder, then gently rubbed her back. “You’ll have a better bond with your own daughter,” he assured her.
“Babies.” Her cheeks pinkened.
“I want a big family, Sophie.”
“I do, too.” She smiled at him. “I want tall boys who ride motorcycles and play volleyball.”
“And girls who love books and Dwarf hamsters,” he added. “I see a lot of sex in our future. Sex with cream cheese icing and”—he pressed a kiss to her lips—“popsicles.”
Sophie shivered in anticipation. Then melted against Dune.